Dark Kings (Feathers and Fate #1) - Sadie Moss Page 0,55

a long time.

I’d like to say I’m taking care of her. That I’m doing this for her. To reassure her and comfort her.

But the truth is, I’m just greedy.

When we break apart, her eyes look a little dazed and her cheeks are still flushed, but something in her body has softened. There’s more I could say, but the elevator already seems to have shrunk somehow, and I think it’s best for us to leave before the ephemeral emotions floating in the air take root.

“Come on, angel.”

With a hand at her back, I usher her out into my apartment, leading her down the hall toward the west wing. I know exactly where Ford has taken our demon captive—to a room with steel doors and magical locks that could only generously be termed a “guest room.”

An “interrogation room” would be a more apt description.

My brother already has Henrik bound to a chair in the middle of the room, and he’s woken the demon up too. Ford towers over him as Remington and Phoenix stand off to one side, watching with distaste and disinterest, respectively.

“Anything?” I ask as Trinity and I step inside.

“The fucker won’t talk,” Ford growls. He draws his fist back, and the angel beside me draws in a sharp breath. When Wrath’s punch connects with the demon’s face, a soft, pained noise falls from Trinity’s lips.

My brother freezes. I know he heard the sound, and it appears to have affected him more than Henrik’s screams ever could.

With a curse, he kicks Henrik’s chair, making it rock back on two legs. Then he turns away, running a hand through his blond hair. “One of you want to try? Be my fuckin’ guest.”

Remington’s eyebrows jerk up, surprise evident on his face. But none of us say anything about Ford’s change of heart. It’s unlike our rage-filled brother to give up an interrogation before the subject is unconscious again, but this suits our purposes just fine anyway. There are other tactics that are just as effective as violence, if not more so.

Jerking my chin at Phoenix, I step forward. He grumbles, annoyed at being called upon to work, but strolls over to stand beside me as Remington takes my place beside Trinity.

“Henrik,” I say smoothly. “We need information. I’m sure you’re aware of the sinkhole to Hell that opened up in Lower Manhattan a few days ago. Who’s behind it?”

The bookie lifts his head to glare at me, unearthly yellow light gleaming in his eyes. “I ain’t tellin’ you shit, man! You kidnap me? You beat the shit out of me? You think I’m gonna help you?” He snorts a laugh, blood dripping from his nose. “He’ll kill me if I say anything.”

Well, that was easy.

Now I know two things: the bookie does have valuable information, and whoever was behind this is a man.

So far, so good.

I stand a little taller, letting a hefty dose of greed waft from me. The demon blinks, licking his lips like he can taste money on the air.

“If you help us, we’ll reward you handsomely,” I promise. “Magic. Power. Money. Whatever you want, I’ll make sure you get it.”

His eyes spark with interest when I say “money,” and I nearly roll my eyes. Everyone thinks money is the key to everything, but they’re wrong. I could lose my entire fortune tomorrow, and I would rebuild it from nothing because I have power. Strength. Determination.

“Sure would be nice, right?” Phoenix’s voice is a languid drawl. “Sipping cocktails on a beach somewhere, not a care in the world? Beats gettin’ the shit kicked out of you by that guy, yeah?” He jerks his thumb at Ford, who growls.

“He’s a fucking psycho!” Henrik blurts, and Phoenix nods understandingly.

“Hey, you don’t gotta tell me.” His voice shifts again as he sends out another wave of sloth toward the man. “It’d be so much easier to just take the money and help us, wouldn’t it? You’ll never have to work again. Never have to deal with this kinda shit again. You wouldn’t answer to anyone but yourself.”

“Fifty million dollars,” I put in, and the greed that flares inside Henrik tells me I timed my offer well. Phoenix has softened him up, and now he’s imagining all the luxury fifty million could buy him. All the pussy. All the booze.

“Yeah… yeah, okay.” The demon’s voice slurs a little, like he’s drunk. Which, in a way, he is. He’s drunk on greed, and so full of sloth that he can barely bother to form